To Spill Blood On The Moon
by Violet Blade
Summary: Captain Jack Sparrow always knew the day would come when he'd meet his match. He just didn't expect it to be a she. Rated for future chapters. (J/OC, W/E)
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: The characters, setting, aspects of plot and anything that you recognise herein belong to Disney. Captain Anna Buckley, the Scarlet Luna and its crew belong to me, along with any unfamiliar ships, characters or plotlines._

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**To Spill Blood On The Moon**

**Chapter 1**

The oceans are large expanses of water that cover certain parts of the earth. They have storms, their moods change as quick as a prostitute changes clients. But this is not entirely true. If you were to ask the right person, the right person would say that it is a canvas for life, a way to exploit freedom to find your solace on the waves. With the right ship, and the right crew, you could accomplish anything. Pirate's oath.

One rather choppy day, an innocent looking ship called the _Scarlet Luna _sailed into Port Royal. Perhaps the name should have given its' less than savoury inhabitants away; anyone who wished to turn the moon the colour of blood could hardly be the most polite of people. So the Harbourmaster and his assistant were rather surprised when a woman stepped off the ship. She was as female as sailors got – a light blue shirt, untucked, underneath a weathered black jacket that whipped around her knees. Her trousers were navy blue, bloodstained, and tucked into old, floppy boots that were patchy at the heels and toes. A sword was hung on a belt that was looped around her shoulder, another belt at her hips holding a pistol.

"Morning lads," she tipped her hat to the Harbourmaster and his assistant. "Just dropping by yer fine town for servicing." She went to walk on past them, but was stopped when a hand was placed on her chest. She raised an eyebrow and looked at the owner of the hand, before giving said hand a good slap. "Hands off the goods, sweet." She folded her arms over her chest and turned to face them. "What seems t' be the trouble?"

The assistant, covering a flush of embarrassment, coughed. "I'll be a needing your name before you can pass, Miss…"

"Buckley. _Captain_ Anna Buckley." She turned and went to walk off again, this time finding a more conservative hand grasping her shoulder. "Yes?" she asked politely, removing the hand delicately from her shoulder.

The Harbourmaster grinned sickeningly at her. "What sort of…services…are you needing, Captain?"

She shrugged. "Bloodshed, rape, pillage, robbery. That sorta thing – depends on me mood, if yer must know. Now if you'll 'scuse me, gents, I'll be off." With that, she jogged off quickly before they could grab her again. She heard a shout of 'hey!' from behind her, but ignored it, carrying on down the road into the main town.

As she turned past the inn, a pickpocket attempted to snatch her purse. She slipped a dagger out from her boot and pressed it against his neck.

"My, t' hospitality is good 'ere, ain't it just? You'll be obligin' me, sweet, where would a lass like me find a blacksmith in this 'ere fine town?" She flashed him a wry smile, and twisted his arm behind his back.

He visibly gulped, and began to stutter. "Building on the right. End of t' lane. Most sorry about tryin' ter snatch yer purse, love. It's a livin', you understand?"

She snorted, shoving him against the inn, releasing her hold and tucking her dagger back in her boot. "That's Captain Anna Buckley t' yeh, sweet." She turned back into the street. "Do be good, now."

--

Will Turner stepped into the Blacksmith's that morning, tucking the keys in his back pocket and whistling as he did so. Elizabeth was back home, running some family errands before coming in to see him later that morning. The two of them had long since recovered from their run in with pirates, had forgotten – almost – about Captain Jack Sparrow, and were quite content with life in Port Royal, thank you very much. Except for that nagging feeling in the back of their minds that the sea was calling…

Will shook his head. He had to be a respectable Blacksmith now, not some pirate running off after someone else's treasure. He had a wife to look after. Of course, he knew that should he ever go to sea again, convincing Elizabeth to stay would be like getting the sun to rise at noon.

A sharp rap at the door awoke him from his thoughts.

"Coming!" he called, and put down the sword he was sharpening. Opening the door, he was greeted by a short, youngish woman dressed in pirate's attire, waving a sword about.

She grinned. "G'mornin. Be this t' Blacksmith's?"

Will nodded. "That it be, Madam. How may I be of assistance?"

She pushed past him, and into the building. "For starters, don't call me Madam. Me name is Captain Anna Buckley, and you'd do well t' remember it." She strode in and sat herself down on the nearest stool. "Second, I got a sword, seen some action of late. Little too much – tis stained like hell 'n blunt to boot. Leastways, that's what me last hostage said." She winked and offered him the sword.

He took it, parrying and thrusting with it a couple of times to adjust to the weight. "Tis a good sword, Captain. I'll have this cleaned up for you in no time." He set to washing the blade in some scaldingly hot water, while she wandered around the shop, examining the blades and machinery. She ended her trek not far from Will, who she examined carefully for a moment.

"Bootstrap!" she said suddenly, and he glanced up.

"Bootstrap Bill was my father," Will said calmly. "I'm told I bear a striking resemblance to him."

Buckley nodded, smirking. "Figures that ole Bill would 'ave a son. Yeh don't seem the pirate type, if yeh don't mind me sayin, Mr. Turner."

He grinned, remembering a conversation with an old friend. "I used to think the same, Captain. A run in with a pirate taught me otherwise. It's what's in my blood, no denying it."

"Not, of course, that that's anything to be ashamed of," said a light, female voice from the doorway. Buckley's head flicked up, but her hand ceased reaching for the pistol at her belt when she saw it was a lady. She watched Will's eyes light up and smirked. So the boy had himself a good wife. What was the world coming to? Bootstrap Bill's only child married off to some British noblewoman?

Buckley bowed to the lady, removing her hat and holding it to her chest. "A pleasure t' meet yeh, Ma'am. I be Captain Anna Buckley, of t' _Scarlet Luna."_

The lady curtseyed politely and smiled. "My name is Elizabeth Turner." Buckley watched as Elizabeth stared at her attire for a moment. "Pardon me for asking, Captain – but are you a pirate? It's just that I've never heard of a woman pirate before."

Buckley smiled and drew back her sleeve to show the pirate marking that she had carried since a young age. "We be few, m'dear, but we are there all t' same."

Elizabeth beamed. "Well then it is indeed a pleasure to meet you also, Captain Buckley. Are you staying long in Port Royal?"

Buckley snorted. "Not if I can 'elp it. T' less time me ship is 'arbored 'ere, t' less time I be worryin' 'bout it. Round 'ere, t' _Scarlet Luna_ is unknown. But word travels fast, m'dear. Yeh never know what may be comin' for yeh."

"Well, should you be here for a good length of time, Captain, I would love to see your ship. I am sure she is most beautiful."

Buckley nodded. "That she is, m'dear, that she is." She turned to Will, who was now sharpening the blade of the sword. "Be that sword ready, Turner? Me crew awaits their Captain."

Will nodded. "Just a moment, and it will be finished." He pressed the tip of the sword to the stone, and examined it closely. Smiling, he handed Buckley the sword. "All done, Captain."

She nodded. "Thanks, Turner." Turning to Elizabeth, she bowed again. "Should I find meself stuck 'ere for some time, I will take yeh up on that request, m'dear." With that, Buckley sheathed her sword at her belt and turned to leave. As she reached the door, Will called to her.

"Captain Buckley? How did you know my father?"

She stopped walking, and span on her heel to face him. "Tis a long story, Turner. You got t' time to hear it?"

He frowned. "I thought you were rushing off?"

She shrugged. "Me crew'll wait. Tis a great tale, and needs t' be told. So like I says, if you got t' time…"

--

Some years earlier, a ship called the _Crafty Barnacle made a deal with the __Black Pearl. On a small, unchartered island, an old pirate had buried all of his treasure before he died. The two ships formed an unlikely alliance when they worked out that the Captain of the __Crafty Barnacle, one Captain Robert Buckley, was the holder of the map while the __Pearl__'s Captain, Barbossa, had the key to the treasure. They sailed alongside to the island, side by side until the moment came to unlock the underground vault that the old pirate's treasure was held in. Both crews attempted to outsmart the other, resulting in a bloody battle that killed the crew of the __Barnacle (said crew not being aware that the _Pearl_'s crew were less than mortal)._

Their Captain, however, was spared. He and the _Pearl's First Mate battled on the beach of the island, attempting to win the rights to the treasure. The Mate had Buckley pinned to the ground, his sword against the Captain's throat._

"Any last words, Buckley?"

The Captain coughed and spluttered, but finally regained composure enough to speak. "Now, Bootstrap…you wouldn't kill a father, would ya?" Buckley glanced back onto the boats that had bought them to shore, where a young girl dressed in pirate clothing was sat, carving a boat out of wood with a dagger.

A vision of a young boy, a golden medallion around his neck, flashed across Bootstrap's mind.

"Go," he barked, and Buckley did not have to be told twice. He escaped on the boat that the young girl was sitting in, and the two were never seen again. The _Crafty Barnacle_ was wrecked some years later, but rebuilt by the young girl and turned into the _Scarlet Luna_. 

The girl's name was Anna.


	2. Chapter 2

**To Spill Blood On The Moon**

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**Chapter 2**

Buckley awoke to the sound of the sea, the waves lapping gently against the side of the ship. The sunrise was streaming in through the porthole and straight into her eyes, so she rose quickly to escape the glare. Dressing, she climbed the stairs up to deck and took a breath of the salty air before speaking in her Celtic lilt. 

"Smith! I'm off t' see Turner. Yeh look after me ship, savvy?"

The First Mate saluted Buckley, and set the ship's boy to swabbing the decks. Buckley grinned, and sent a rather drunken salute back, taking a swig of run from her hip flask. After breathing in the sea air once more, she walked to the port side, slipped down a rope and onto the dock. Strolling amongst the early-rising townspeople towards the Blacksmith's, she was reminded of yesterday's conversation that followed the story.

_"What happened to the treasure? Did the Pearl's crew take it?"_

_Buckley had shaken her head. "Nay. Me father was no' an idiot. 'e stole t' key from Barbossa moment 'e laid eyes on't. Treasure's still there – Barbossa 'ad t' map, so I've never made it t' island." She smiled, and drummed her fingers against the table. "Mark me words, Turner. I'll find it, one o' these days."_

_He paused, visibly contemplating something. "I think I know where the map is," he said slowly, and made to continue, but was interrupted by Elizabeth's entry. She informed him that it was time they left for dinner with her father, and Turner could do nothing but comply. "Tomorrow morning," he said. "I can get you this map…if you'll let me sail again, just one more time."_

Buckley smirked. Perhaps the pirate in dear Mr. Turner was not so far buried as he thought. Buckley had a feeling that young wife of his might not take to well to his going to sea, though, and insist on coming. Well, if she was going to, then she could jolly well help around the ship. They needed a cook, Buckley remembered, so that would do the girl nicely. If she'd comply, of course. But then, her crew would get annoyed 

Buckley rapped on the Blacksmith's door again, before politely barging in.

"Mornin' Turner," she greeted the young man, who was sharpening another blade. "Miss Elizabeth," she added, spotting the woman nearby. Then she noticed another person in the room, standing in the shadow of the corner, and stepped towards it. "Come, mysterious shadow, reveal yerself, before I reveal ye." She placed a hand on her sword as emphasis, and smiled wickedly.

Out of the shadows stepped a pirate, dressed similarly to her (though a little more grandeur was to his taste, Buckley noticed), with dark eyes that seemed to stare right through her. He stepped in front of her, one eyebrow raised, and chuckled.

"They'll let anyone bear the mark of a pirate these days."

Afterwards Buckley couldn't decide whether it was the fact that he was punched, or the fact that a female pirate punched him, that was worse. Having given him a nice bruise to go with his smirk, she folded her arms over her chest.

"Me name is _Captain_ Anna Buckley, and should yeh ever forget 't I'll give you a broken arm t' match yer nose." She turned her back on him and walked over to Will. "Well, Turner? Where's me map?"

He smirked and pointed to the crumpled heap of pirate on the floor. "It's right there. Arrived in port this morning."

She raised an eyebrow and moved for her sword again. "Don't mess w' me, Turner. Me map. Where is't? I said I'd take ye, if yeh gave me map back. Where it be, Turner?"

"I told you. He's got it."

The pirate, now standing, snorted. "What, Will? I ain't got your map, mate." He turned towards Buckley, and bowed, offering his hand. "Captain Jack Sparrow, at yer service. Please accept me apologies for my…rash behaviour."

Buckley drew her sword suddenly, and stepped back. "Turner, I give ye credit. Yeh've made some friends in high places." She smirked. "Or should I say low?"

Will smiled. "Do you believe me now, Anna? That he has your map?"

She nodded, although reluctantly. "Aye. It be t' _Pearl that has me map." Sighing, she re-sheathed her sword. "Unfortunately for Sparrow, he be having no clue what we're talkin' about." She smiled, and took a swig from a flask at her hip._

Sparrow smiled and folded his arms. "Is there treasure?"

Buckley ignored him and turned to Will. "Are yeh coming, Turner? And yer misses, o' course?"

Will frowned. "What, now?" He glanced at Elizabeth. "But…we've not told Jack what we're looking for."

Buckley sneered. "If he has any sense he'll keep 'is mouth shut 'n come quiet like so I can get me map back. I'm not bein' outsmarted by t' _Pearl again." She fiddled with a chain at her neck. "Me father wouldn't want't."_

"Now wait just a minute," Sparrow said, stepping between Will and Buckley. "What map, what treasure, and what outsmarting is going on here?"

"Eight years ago, there were a deal made between the _Pearl_ and the _Crafty Barnacle_ – may she rest 'n peace. T' thankfully deceased Captain Barbossa an' Captain Robert Buckley had an accord, they would split t' treasure, fifty-fifty." She paused to glare at Sparrow. "Yeh can guess what happened. Me father stole back the key from Barbossa, but t' map was lost. Just after, me father's ship was wrecked jus' off Tortuga. T' _Scarlet Luna_ was built by me uncle, as me birthday present."

"Ahh, good old Barbossa," nodded Sparrow. "I ain't heard of no map, darlin'. But I promise…" he stepped closer to her, and his mouth twitched into a smile. "I'll have a really good look for it."

Buckley sneered and wrinkled her nose at his close proximity, but nodded. "Pack yer bags, Turner," she said, turning to Will. "You too, Miss Elizabeth. Me ship is the fourth along in the dock. Yeh've got an hour."

With that she turned on her heal and strode out the door, glad to be free of Captain Jack Sparrow and his cocky smile.

--

Will and Elizabeth walked towards the _Scarlet Luna_ forty minutes later, Sparrow not far behind them. The ship was a grand one – white oak, navy blue trimming and silver fastenings. On deck, a bunch of sweaty sailors were preparing the ship to leave Port Royal. Buckley was stood at the helm, running her hand across the steering wheel and smiling.

"Boatswain! Finished mendin' that jib yet?"

A sailor waved a triangular sail at her, and she nodded. "Aye, Cap'n. Will yeh be wantin' it up the foremast now?"

Buckley walked down the stairs, kicking a lazy shipmate on her way and addressing the sailor again. "Aye. Up yeh go." She gave him a foot up to the cordage and continued walking amongst her crew.

"Buckley!" Will called, from the docks. She jumped down next to the bollard and began to untie the ropes.

"On board with yeh. We be stoppin' at Tortuga first, pick up supplies." She reluctantly turned to Sparrow and spoke to him. "Yeh can meet up wi' us there, Sparrow."

He snorted, but turned to go back to his ship. "Yes, ma'am," he muttered as he walked off. Buckley ignored him and continued to untie the hawser from the bollards. Once she was done, and the Turners were on the ship, she clambered up after them and called to the crew.

"Weigh in t' anchor, chaps, and go large." She took the wheel again and winked at Elizabeth, who was grinning. "Never ask a man t' do a woman's job." Once they were away and stable, Buckley gave the helm to her First Mate and took Will and Elizabeth into the Captain's quarters. Sitting them down in front of her desk, she put her feet up and tossed her hat onto the sideboard. "Turner…" she began, glancing at him. "I want t' know how tis that a reputable blacksmith like yerself comes inter contact wi' a pirate like Jack Sparrow."

Elizabeth coughed. "I believe it's _Captain_ Jack Sparrow."

"Whatever 't be," Buckley said, waving her hand. "Yeh've had run-ins with pirates before."

Will nodded. "He saved Elizabeth's life, he saved hers, we saved each other a few times. He's a good man, Buckley."

"Well 'scuse me if ah'm less than willin' to be acceptin' that." She sighed. "Yeh seem to know him well enough, anyways. Ah'm putting yeh in charge o' him, Turner. Don' be lettin' 'im steal me treasure."

"About this treasure," Elizabeth interjected. "Will we be getting any, being as we bought you the map?"

Buckley smiled. "Aye, yeh bought me t' map, but yeh also bought me Sparrow. Ah'll be givin' yeh a small percentage, o' course."

Elizabeth nodded, and returned the smile. She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when First Mate Smith burst through the door.

"Smith! Ain't yeh head o' knockin'?"

The First Mate mumbled an apology and stepped into the room. "Beggin' yer pardon, Cap'n, but we have ourselves a hostage." Buckley stood up and followed him out of the room, Will and Elizabeth close behind.

Standing, surrounded by crew, his hands bound together, was Captain Jack Sparrow. A bruise was spreading across his cheek and his nose was bleeding. "Mornin', Captain Buckley. I've got yer map. Unfortunately, I seem to have found myself without a ship."

Buckley sighed. "Welcome to the _Scarlet Luna¸ _Sparrow. Let him go. He's wi' us."


End file.
